Knowledge
by Myriddin
Summary: Sequel to Impressions. Daniela and A'thor get to know each other, a brother is concerned, and A'thor bonds with someone special. ONESHOT.


**Knowledge**

***Disclaimer: I own no parts of Dragonriders of Pern, related characters, or storylines. Characters and storylines involved in this fic are original and have no standing in canon. **

**Author's Note: I made some changes in Impressions, so that its been five years since A'thor Impressed Jarth, instead of three. While I originally saw A'thor as about 18 when I started writing, but I envisioned him as 20 or 21 by the end, and this should fix some inconsistencies in his description in the other story. Also, Daniela's queen was originally Hannath, but after being pointed out the name was already used in canon, she is now called Banceth. **

Summary: A'thor and Daniela get to know each other, D'gal is concerned, and A'thor bonds with someone.

_**Benden Weyr- Fifth Pass, T20, 11th Month**_

The air was cold and biting with the frost of early winter, evident in the misty haze fogging the air. Any skin left exposed was numb from the chill, made evident as he tugged his fur trimmed jacket closer around his body. The outside was quiet in the early morning stillness, a peace he knew would soon be broken, for inside, residents (human and draconic alike) were beginning to stir), and soon, despite the cold, the Bowl would be teeming with life as much as the inside workings of the Weyr.

His hands were rhythmic in their occupation as they went through repairs to Jarth's riding harness and his own gear, expertly moving through the motions ingrained into him as a weyrling. Intent on his task, he went unnoticing as the clouds parted in the skies above his head, allowing the soft glow of the sunlight to spill through, dissipating the misty fog.

With the new warmth of the sun on his back, he hummed contently as he worked, spilling over into song as beams of sunlight dominating over the obscuring cloud cover.

"…beat of heart…"

And his voice, a rich, male timbre, softly filled the air, rising in harmony to the point that he missed the sound of approaching footsteps.

"A'thor?"

"…turn of pride…"

"A'thor!"

His eyes flew open, his hands thrown to either side of him to keep him from falling over in his surprise. A'thor found himself staring up into the bewitching eyes of Daniela, nearly touching nose to nose, as she was bent down to him.

"Er…hello."

Color stained the girl's cheeks with realization at their proximity. She pulled away, jerking her body back with such force that her feet lost their balance. But just before she hurtled back unto the ground, a pair of strong hands locked around her arms, gently tugging her forward. Unfortunately for the two, the rescue only changed the direction of the fall's momentum, sending her tumbling into A'thor's lap.

Daniela flushed with mortification as she shakily moved away from him. She brushed imaginary dirt from her trousers in an effort not to meet his eyes. "Thank you," she said softly. She looked up at him sheepishly. "I hope I'm not disturbing you."

"Not at all." He grinned, "To be honest, I was starting to grow bored, with no company but my own and Jarth's snoring in my head."

Daniela laughed softly, giving him a shy, warm smile as she sat next to him. "He's not as early a riser as his partner, then?"

"Oh, no. He's never been keen to be roused before he pleases. The only time he's easy to forgive me for it is if there's Fall to fly."

She smiled, drawing her knees up to her chest. "Banceth's not much the same. She's so full of energy, she can hardly keep still in her waking hours. She even sleeps restlessly, always moving and twitching. She's up and about when she wants to be, and not a moment sooner. Why should she keep sleeping, she says, when there's so much to do?"

"So no lie-ins for you, I presume."

"Oh, no. Poor thing had a long day yesterday, so while she's still sleeping now, I'm so used to being up with the sun I couldn't join her." Her expression was one of exasperated fondness, the same besotted adoration you could see in any rider toward their dragon leaked through any real annoyance.

He chuckled, the look on his face equal parts sympathetic and amused. "I see. Let's not hold it against her, though. I'm glad for the company."

"Oh, don't let her hear you use too much praise. She already had too much of a big head from your compliments on the hunting grounds."

A'thor smiled gently, and she felt something inside warm, thinking what a nice smile he had. "I wouldn't worry. She's one of our lady queens, after all. Just wait until she's on wing, up in these skies. The entire Weyr will be in awe."

She couldn't help smiling in return, looking up at the sky with a wistful sigh. "She's so eager to fly, and so jealous of the others."

He hummed thoughtfully, raising the harness he had been working on to his face to tear off the excess string with his teeth. "She'll fly soon. It's just that as a queenpair, you're both so precious to us, the Weyrleaders want to be especially careful and wait for her to grow a bit more."

Daniela blushed, and knew that when she later relayed the conversation, the little queen would be pleased by the bronzerider's words. She watched him rethread his needle, and hoped with the comfortable dynamic they seemed to have established, her next question was not too invasive. "If you don't mind my asking…what was it like for you as a weyrling, being hold-bred and all?"

He set his work aside and turned to face her, folding his legs under him. "It was different, though I suppose that's a bit of an understatement. I grew up in Lemos. You can imagine with all those trees, it was a bit hard to see the sky," he gave her a half-grin as she shook her head at the humor with a small smirk of her own, "So I didn't think much about riding dragons. My family's actually rather well-off, you see. Lots of land, lumber trade, and a few mills. And Lord Astos' favor."

He rested his chin in his hand, arm propped by his knee. "My father's a practical man. Very pragmatic. He had very little patience for…what did he call it…having your head up in the clouds. His sons were going to be sensible, hard-working men who followed him and kept their feet on the ground. So, you can imagine how shocked I was when the Search dragon came and chose me. My father wasn't all that happy either." He shrugged. "It was just a very big change to come to the Weyr, let alone Impress. It took me a long time to adjust. It helped to have friends. Your brother among them."

"Well," she said lightly, "I'm glad you had him. I've always liked his company, myself." He flashed her a grin in response, and something pleasant hummed through her at the sight.

They lapsed into silence, and to Daniela's pleasure, it was a comfortable one. She spared a glance at her companion, but A'thor's eyes were aimed toward the Bowl, and she took the chance to study him.

He was an attractive man, rather handsome with a strong, rugged quality to his features. Short-clipped dark hair did nothing to distract from his clean-shaven face, his skin still retaining its golden tan from the summer-sun. Tall, with broad shoulders and lean muscles, he seemed every bit the ideal bronze rider.

His eyes were kind, dark gray in color, and feeling her gaze on him, they focused on her, relaxed and content. But before either of them could speak again, Daniela was startled out of her reverie by the sudden echo of Banceth's voice in her mind.

_Where are you? I'm hungry._

He cocked an eyebrow, his lips quirking with the beginnings of a grin at her obvious jump. "Something wrong?"

She shook her head, "Banceth's awake, and hungry it seems."

He hummed in agreement. "I remember those days."

She stood, brushing off her pants and watched as he rose to his feet as well. She hesitated, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "The feeding won't take long. Would…would you like to have breakfast after?"

The look on his face was torn, regretful. "I would love to, but I have somewhere to be. Another time?"

She forced a smile, nodding. "Of course."

_Are you hurt? You feel upset. _

_I'm fine, dear one. Just a bit disappointed. _

_Jarth says his rider wants to stay with you, but he has something important to do. You should not be sad. _

Daniela flushed, wishing not for the first time she was not as transparent to another being as she was to her wily queen. _Thank you. I'm not sad anymore. _

A'thor hesitated after picking up his gear, turning back to face her. This time, her smile was more genuine, and he beamed a boyish little grin, raising his hand in a jaunty wave before they parted ways.

**xx**

_**Lower Caverns:**_

"A'thor!"

As A'thor navigated his way through the crowds of "weyr-brats" gathering for the morning meal, he turned toward the source of the call, a slender, dark-haired woman waving him to an empty corner.

"A'thor, this is a surprise! We weren't expecting you for at least another sevenday."

A'thor gave the woman a polite smile in greeting, but found his attention more focused on what she was holding. "I know, but I have something for him, and I couldn't wait to give it to him."

The woman, Sara, gave him a knowing look as she noticed his distraction, carefully transferring the squirming bundle in her arms. "I just finished feeding him," she said softly, "So he'll drift off soon. But I'm sure he'll be happy to visit until then."

A'thor smiled as he sat down, cradling the child she had handed him. He gently placed the boy, Sebor, in his lap, and smiled at the low hum of contentment the baby made as he cuddled closer. As he handed Sebor the toy he had picked up at an Istan gather a few days before, he found himself musing over the circumstances that had surrounded the little one's existence.

Sebor was the end-result of Jarth's catching a green a little over a Turn ago. When her rider fell pregnant, it was only A'thor's beseeching, Hold-bred horror at the idea of "taking a short dragon-ride" and the allowance of the Weyrleader, A'ron, that Sebama and her green could be allowed the downtime from Threadfall, that convinced Sebama to carry to term. She hadn't been happy about it, and made certain A'thor knew it every second of her pregnancy. After nine months of sharing a weyr, their son was born, weaned and fostered, and both riders went their separate ways without hesitation.

Typically, A'thor had taken to seeing the baby twice a month since his birth. But spotting a particular plaything in a toymaker's booth at the Gather taking place at Ista Hold after he and Jarth flew a Master Fisherman there, he spent most of his newly-earned marks, and he'd been eager to present the gift to his son. It was worth it, he knew, seeing the look of fascination on his Sebor's little face.

The bronzerider grinned as the boy shoved the tail of the stuffed fire-lizard in his mouth, gnawing between toothless gums. At four months, Sebor was an active tot, alert and vocal with his new ability to babble sounds only he understood. He squirmed, chattering happily at his father of all the goings-on he had missed, or that was what A'thor interpreted his son's words as.

Eventually, the inevitable came at his young age, especially with a full belly, and he grew fussy and drowsy. A'thor soothingly rocked him, cuddling him close.

His eyes, only recently turned to gray, fell to half-mast and sleepily, Sebor snuggled up against the broad expanse of his sire's chest, instinctually trying to burrow close to the warmth. A rich chuckle rumbled through A'thor's chest, causing a little nose to wrinkle as the sound tickled against his ear. Gentle hands lifted him until he was held more securely in strong arms and the baby closed his eyes, safe and warm, falling into a deep sleep.

"He wore himself out," Sara said with a light laugh.

A'thor smiled softly, stroking a hand through his son's fine dark hair. "He did."

Sara watched them with a fond smile, "We'll still be seeing you on the third-day?"

"Of course." He kissed Sebor's forehead. "There's nowhere I'd rather be."

**xx**

"A'thor!"

Musing over receiving such a greeting for the third time that day, A'thor turned to find D'gal waving at him, jogging to catch up as he walked the corridors leading away from the Caverns.

The Wingsecond gave him a friendly smile, "How's your boy doing?"

A'thor was not surprised in the least that his friend knew his reason for being in this area of the weyr. "Sebor's doing well."

D'gal nodded, falling into step beside him before giving him a thoughtful look. "Could I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"What exactly happened with Sebama?"

A'thor scowled. "She practically breathed fire herself when I pressed her to stay with me, after she got pregnant. You know how she is. She stayed, looked at me with nothing but contempt the entire time, and moved out of the weyr the moment the baby was weaned."

D'gal winced sympathetically. "I'm sorry, friend."

The younger rider snorted. "I'm not. To see her go, I mean."

His wing-mate laughed lightly. "I see. So things are working out for the baby?"

"They are. After Sebama fostered him, Sela placed him with a good woman. Sara seems to really care about him."

"A fosterling can't ask for anything better."

A'thor cocked his head in his friend's direction, taking the time to study him. Now that he took the time, let his mind open to the details, he could see the likenesses between Daniela and the man standing beside him. There was a resemblance in the curve of his nose and the shape of his mouth, the angle of his cheekbones. They had the same eyes, though D'gal's were a darker shade, reminding A'thor of the moss growing along the trunks of the oldest trees in Lemos' vast forests. "So it was alright for you? You and Daniela, I mean."

D'gal paused, looking him over in a way that A'thor felt he was being scrutinized. "It was. My mother was a green rider, and Daniela's, she died from the birth. I was well-cared for, and plenty loved, by my foster-mother. I had siblings in other fosterlings. And I knew my sister." His expression was one of soft understanding. "He'll be fine, A'thor."

A'thor nodded absently, drawn away by his thoughts. D'gal cleared his throat, regaining his attention. "Speaking of Daniela, I heard you two had met."

Was it just him, or was there suddenly ruddy color in A'thor's cheeks? "Yes. Just a conversation on the feeding grounds."

The older man stopped, giving his companion the same searching look. "Be careful, A'thor. Banceth's still young, and my sister's still…" He trailed off, but raising his eyebrows gave A'thor the idea he was trying to convey.

A'thor fiercely shook his head. "No, D'gal…I won't…" He gave his friend a helpless look. "It's Jarth," he admitted, "Banceth's what he's been waiting for."

D'gal nodded, not looking the least bit surprised. "Then like I said, be careful. I like you, A'thor, and the dragon is never wrong. Still…not yet, my friend. Not quite yet."

A'thor agreed, but when the thought of a certain queen and her rider stirred Jarth back in their weyr and a possessive rumble echoed in his head, he wondered if he really had a choice in the matter.


End file.
